Dragons Among Us
by wingedauthoress14
Summary: The world of humans and dragons is under threat. The dragon slayers are the only ones who can unite them, but humanity's steadfast fear and hatred of dragons makes this no easy task. Iron dragon slayer Gajeel joins the guard of Fiore's king and earns the princess's trust. Will they be enough to convince the kingdom to join the dragons?
1. A Council of Dragons

_A/N: Hey everyone! It's been so long since I wrote a fanfic, and I missed it. Let me know what you think!_

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Dust rose up beneath Metalicana's talons as he landed, his vision obscured until he beat his heavy wings, clearing the air. He breathed in deeply and growled. Despite the open terrain, everything smelled musty and stale, a land locked away and forgotten. Even the colors were muted. Soft greys made the rocks jutting out of the earth appear fuzzy, while dark clouds swirled above, a tempest held at bay. Why he chose to meet here of all places…

As though thought alone summoned him, a beat of wings sounded overhead, accompanied by a wave of heat and the scent of sulfur. Igneel landed heavily beside Metalicana, dust flying up once again.

"I wondered when I might see you," Igneel greeted Metalicana as the air cleared, his great voice like thunder. "Though I must say, I am surprised to see you at all. I believed the affairs of humans were beneath you."

"They are," Metalicana stared straight ahead, refusing to meet the red dragon's eye. "But this concerns dragons as well, and being one of those, I wish to know what is going on."

The red dragon nodded. "I doubt you are alone in that standing."

Metalicana snorted. Igneel would be siding with humans, of course, but he'd always found them to be too much of a fuss. They were loud, unruly, and had a greed that rivaled that of dragons themselves. No, this meeting would merely to pacify his own curiosity.

They walked until they reached an immense stone circle with a raised dais in the center. A dragon with pearl-colored feathers perched outside the circle.

"Grandeeney," Igneel greeted her. "It is good to have you both here. Now all we need are-"

"We are here, Igneel," a booming voice called out. Above them soared two dragons—one completely white with feathers protruding from his ruff, and the other, black as shadow itself. They circled and landed next to Grandeeney. "I believe it will only be the five of us," the white dragon, Weisslogia said.

"We have not heard from any of the others," the black dragon, Skiadrum shook his head. "That could be problematic."

"It will be," a hoarse whisper floated across the air to the group. An immense dragon with dark scales that reflected the sky ascended the dais. Upon closer inspection, his scales were cracked at the ends, and he bore several long, deep scars that ran from his shoulder to his lighter underbelly. One eye was completely white, while the other was as clouded as the skies. Long trails of white feathers flowed from above his eyes and beneath his nose, ruffling with each breath.

"I trust you have a reason for gathering us all here, Igneel," it said, its words slow but clear.

Igneel nodded. "Thank you for joining us, Chronologia," he turned to the rest of the dragons. "We have all been sensing Acnologia growing stronger. Though he may still be trapped, he will not stay that way forever. Once he gets out, he will wreak vengeance on us all." He turned to Chronologia. "Can you confirm this?"

The aged dragon nodded slowly. "I have seen it. He will start in the human world first...then come to us." The soft coughing that came from him turned out to be a laugh. "Not that he can do much to me."

"You may be immortal, but the rest of us are not," Grandeeney shot at him before looking at Igneel. "You have an idea, I assume?"

"I do, but it will involve cooperation," Igneel said. He looked around at all of them before saying: "We need to join together with the humans if we are to survive Acnologia's wrath."

A stunned silence fell from all the dragons at this suggestion.

"Join...with humans?" Grandeeney mused.

"It is...risky," Skiadrum shook his head. "But...there are quite powerful wizards among them."

"But how would we do such a thing?" asked Weisslogia. "We have not been among humans since the wars. We have not forgotten them, and neither will have they."

"You cannot be entertaining this idea," Metalicana growled at all of them. "Join with humans? How much could they possibly help?"

"They can have great power," Igneel insisted. "I have seen it myself."

"There is no way this will work," Metalicana shook his head. "You may as well doom us all with your idiotic ideas."

"Our only hope is the humans!" Igneel roared. "We have no one else with the capabilities to withstand as much magic. If you want to give both our world and theirs even a chance at survival, you will listen to my plan."

Metalicana growled, but said nothing.

"What is your plan, Igneel?" Grandeeney asked in a soft voice.

Igneel turned his neck and ruffled through his left wing. A moment later, he resurfaced, the tip of his jaws clenching a white scarf attached to a sleeping pink-haired boy.

Grandeeney gasped while the rest stared at the small human. Were they usually this small?

"He is my plan," Igneel said, setting the boy down in front of them. "I am caring for this child and teaching him my magic. I believe he can be a bridge between the world of dragons and the world of humans."

"A bridge?" Skiadrum asked.

Igneel nodded. "As Weisslogia mentioned, though it has been nearly a hundred years since the wars with the humans, they will neither have forgotten nor forgiven us. No matter how good our motives, they will not tolerate our presence. We need those who trust us, who will also be trusted by humans," at this, he inclined his head toward the boy. "I believe the best way is to find the humans willing to speak with us and teach them dragon magic. They will become our ambassadors and convince the rest of the humans to join us."

"Now you are joking," Metalicana laughed. "As if humans don't hate us enough, you think they won't hate anyone associated with us as well?"

"A good point," Weisslogia said, turning to Igneel.

"Where would we find these humans?" Grandeeney asked. "Any who are courageous enough to try to find us are sure to be courageous enough to try and kill us," she mused.

"There are the young humans. The ones without families. This one is named Natsu, and he has no one else to care for him," Igneel said.

"No one would miss them," said Skiadrum. "No one would look for them."

"It could work..." Grandeeney said. "We could find human children, give them homes, teach them our ways. They could connect our worlds peacefully."

Skiadrum and Weisslogia nodded, but Metalicana growled. Take care of a small human? How completely odious.

Igneel turned to Metalicana. "What do you say, brother? Will you help us?"

Metalicana stared down at that small, pink-haired boy Igneel had called Natsu. What a puny thing he was. No scales, hardly any teeth, and clearly no sense of danger as he lay fast asleep in a thunder of dragons. How were these things supposed to protect themselves?

How, indeed?

He heaved a sigh that sounded as heavy as his armored scales. "As much as I can try, I do not see a way around this. Yes. I am with you."

"Excellent," Igneel nodded to Metalicana. "When the time comes, we can combine our magic with theirs and work together to defeat Acnologia."

As if the words floated to Acnologia himself, each dragon felt a shudder in the air. Metalicana braced himself against the pulses until they faded moments later.

"If that is your plan," Chronologia said, "you had best get it started soon. You do not have much time left."

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_A/N: I plan on updating once a week (hopefully Mondays). See you next week! :)_


	2. Gajeel Found

_A/N: Hey everyone! Here's the second installment of "Dragons Among Us." I hope you like it!_

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Gajeel raced through the crowded streets of Miletus, blurring the white brick buildings, food stands, and animal stalls around him. He ducked under legs and heard several screams erupt behind him with the ruffled of skirts.

"Stop, thief!" Bigger footsteps pounded close behind him, but he had a steady lead. He wound his way around the market passing stalls stacked high with mounds of spices, colorful fabrics, and baskets of dried fruits.

He dashed by the last stall where a few chickens sat caged. Their white feathers whirled up in his wake as he passed. Almost there.

Gajeel turned a corner and slammed into something very heavy and slightly squishy. He fell, hitting his head.

"Damn it," he muttered, rubbing the smarting spot. He turned to run, but a hand grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, hauling him up so that his feet no longer touched the ground.

"Think you can steal from me, you little cretin?" The grocer pushed his tanned, pudgy face into Gajeel's, his foul breath washing over him.

"I didn't steal nothin'!" Gajeel shouted as his shirt untucked and a loaf of bread, two apples, and a handful of coins fell out, thudding and clattering as they hit the ground.

"Didn't steal anything, eh?" The grocer yelled with a triumphant smirk. He waved over a couple of guards. "He's here! I found him!" He turned back to Gajeel, his eyes bright with victory. "You're in big trouble, young man! Just wait until Belno gets ahold of you!"

"I ain't goin' back there!" Gajeel protested, squirming against the grocer's grip.

The grocer set Gajeel down and the guard took him by the arm. "Come on, kid," the guard sighed as he started to drag Gajeel away.

"I _said_ ain't going back!" He yelled. In a swift movement, Gajeel lunged using all his weight and twisted.

It worked—the guard's grip slackened and Gajeel bolted away.

He'd never sprinted so fast for so long. Then again, he'd never gotten caught. His footsteps pounded the ground, his flimsy shoes slapping the stone with small, echoing cracks.

Gajeel ran until he was out of the city, where the white brick faded to tan and the last of the shops and nicer homes fell behind him. It wasn't until he'd ducked into an alleyway to catch his breath and relieve the stitch in his side that he realized the guard was no longer chasing him. Gajeel rested his back against the wall and slid, hitting the ground with a thump.

The danger behind him, Gajeel's anger grew. Damn that grocer—he was always watching Gajeel, always ready for him to steal.

And damn that orphanage—he was never going back to that place. The old hag expected him to just sit still in those lessons all day, then if he didn't feel like it, he'd get his knuckles rapped? He was better off in the streets, even if he was hungrier than he'd ever been.

Gajeel's stomach growled and he stood. Better off or not, he still needed food. In one of the old hag's lessons, he remembered that fruit sometimes grew on trees. But…trees didn't grow from white brick or stone walkways.

An enormous creaking made him jolt. He peeked out of the alleyway and saw a tarp-covered cart drawn by horses parked near the city's gates, which were beginning to open. A glimpse of rolling green hills and bright blue sky greeted him. There had to be food out there. In any case, it was better than what he had now.

The gates opened fully and Gajeel's heart leapt. If he was going, he needed to go now.

The guards' backs were turned as they opened the gate, and Gajeel sprinted out, careful to soften his step. He grabbed ahold of the edge of the cart and hauled himself up, landing in the bed. In one swift motion, he lifted the tarp and scrambled under it, a heavy metallic scent greeting him in the puff of air. He pushed aside two heavy wooden crates marked "Nails" and nestled between them on his stomach, making sure to reach out cover everything back up with the tarp.

Gajeel had no sooner tugged the tarp back into place when the cart started to move. Gajeel held his breath, worried that even his breathing might give him away. As the tarp flapped, he caught a glimpse of the pudgy-faced grocer and the guard who had chased him. They peered down the alleyways, shaking their heads. The grocer's face was redder than Gajeel had ever seen.

Resisting the urge to burst out laughing, Gajeel nestled down between the crates and waited.

As they passed through the gates, the world became different. The sunlight was stronger, the air cleaner. A groaning sound made him look through the gap in the tarp, and he watched as the gates closed on Miletus, the only home he'd ever known.

His face broke into a wide grin. Gone were the days of sitting in a stifling room, getting his knuckles rapped, sleeping on dirty doormats, or having angry grocers scream in his face.

For the first time, the world felt…like his.

Ignoring the jab of hunger in his stomach, Gajeel laid his head on his arms. The sun warmed the inside of the cart, while the cart rolled along the smooth road. He blinked slowly once, and then again. By the next blink, he was asleep.

The cart stopped with a jolt and the piercing whinnies of the horses broke Gajeel out of his dozing. Thirsty and disoriented, he raised his head, breathing heavily until he remembered where he was.

The cart shifted and something hit the ground followed shortly by the jingle of reigns and a shushing noise. "What's gotten into you girls?" He asked, his voice sounding muffled from Gajeel's spot beneath the tarp. Gajeel's heart gave a jolt—if the driver caught him, what if he brought him back to the city?

Gajeel got up and clambered out of the back of the cart. His feet hit the ground hard and the driver, who had bent over to check one of his horse's hooves, stood and turned.

"Who's there?" He called, pulling out a small dagger from his belt. "I'm armed, I warn you."

Gajeel sprinted to the trees, the muscles in his legs already aching from fleeing the guards that morning. He flew past the line of trees and became enveloped in verdant shade. He wove through the trees, but without the smooth stone of the marketplace, he stumbled over roots and rocks. His foot slammed into a twig, causing it to snap and scratch his shin. He heard the driver call out, but his voice quickly faded as Gajeel trekked deeper into the forest.

When Gajeel glimpsed back and could no longer see the road, he paused to take a few deep breaths. He now shook with hunger, his limbs feeling as though they were tied with weights. He looked around at the forest. This was what the old had had been talking about, so where was the fruit? The world around him was a vibrant green, but how much good did that do him?

Though no stranger to a missed meal, Gajeel's stomach twisted at the thought of there being no wild bounty in this wide, open world. _All these damn trees, and no fruit? What gives? _He thought savagely. Clutching his middle, Gajeel walked until he spotted streaks of brown-red beyond the leaves. He reached the edge of the forest, where a rocky terrain sprawled out beneath a sky which was made all the bluer in contrast with the reddish tinge of the ground.

"Sure as hell isn't any food out here," he muttered to himself. He turned to go back into the forest when thunder reached his ears.

"I would not say that. You look and smell much like food yourself."

Gajeel froze. Thunder didn't speak. He broke into a cold sweat and turned.

A creature stood before him, bigger than any building he'd ever seen—even bigger than the palace at the center of Miletus. Sunlight reflected off its silvery plates and its wingspan looked as it if could shade the city itself. Its underbelly was covered in a plate that looked like the chainmail he'd seen on palace guards.

Gajeel swallowed dryly, breathing heavy as he fell backward. This was…this was…

He reached out, looking for…anything. His hand found something rough and long—a stick! Gajeel stood and brandished the stick at the dragon.

"I ain't scared of you!" He roared, baring his teeth. "Get outta here!"

The dragon let out a low rumble. It was a moment before Gajeel realized it was laughing.

"You've got a nasty look in your eye," the dragon said. "But there's also a great deal of courage."

Gajeel sneered. "There's a lot more than that if you start messin' with me!" His stomach growled and he blushed.

The dragon laughed again, deep and slow. "I have food," in a massive movement, it turned to go, stepping with a massive foot that shook the rocky earth. "Come along, if you wish."

"An' if I don't?" Gajeel spat, though he licked his lips.

"Then starve. It is of no concern to me," the dragon kept walking.

Gajeel stood for a moment then bolted after the dragon.

The sun had almost fully set by the time they'd reached their destination—a cave in the outcroppings made of the red rocks. Just outside of the cave was a cheerful fire, on top of which roasted an enormous boar on a spit.

The scent made Gajeel's mouth water and he bolted over. He'd seen pigs in the marketplace, but never a boar of this size. He looked up at the dragon who reached out a talon and cut off a slab, handing it to Gajeel. He took it, juggling it slightly to avoid burning his hands, before taking a huge bite out of it. He grinned as he wiped the juices rolling down his chin.

"My name is Metalicana," the dragon said after Gajeel had polished off his fourth slice of the pork. Metalicana had to ask Igneel for that bit of fire, but seeing the small human fall on the roast boar with such gusto made it almost worth swallowing his pride. "I am the iron dragon."

"I'm Gajeel," Gajeel said, licking the grease off his fingers. "What d'you mean the iron dragon? You mean you're made of iron?"

"Yes. There are other dragons of light, fire, shadow, and sky, but none command iron magic as I do."

"You can do magic?" Gajeel gasped, jumping to his feet. "Lemme see!"

Metalicana laughed that soft thunderous laugh and immense iron poles jutted out from the ground around Gajeel, who yelped and landed on his backside.

"Wow!" Gajeel looked around, eyes wide with glee as he rushed up to examine the poles. Metalicana surged with pride. His magic _was _amazing.

"You gotta teach me, Metalicana!" Gajeel demanded. The boy even had the nerve to stomp his foot.

"Get that ugly look out of your eye, and I will teach you everything I know."

By the end of the next day, Gajeel had caught on to the basics of iron dragon magic quickly. The great iron dragon looked down at the small boy with a rush of pride and protection. He would learn quickly, and that was the best either of them could do.

"Metalicana," Gajeel asked a few days later as they broke their training for a leftover lunch of the roasted boar. "Are there other people who can do iron dragon magic?"

"No. You are the only one," Metalicana said, swallowing a mouthful of scrap metal. "Don't forget to have that screw finished by the end of your lunch. It is important to your training."

"How come I'm the only one?" Gajeel asked, nibbling on the end of the screw.

Metalicana paused. Though days had passed since he'd taken Gajeel under his wing, he still hadn't told him what lay in his future.

"I chose you because I found you," Metalicana finally said. "You needed a home, and I—the other dragons as well—needed someone to pass on their magic to."

"Huh?" Gajeel cocked his head. "I don't get it."

Metalicana grumbled. It was one thing to discuss the possibility of the world ending with other dragons, but they'd never talked about how to tell the young ones they were to adopt. _I will have words with Igneel for this, _he thought, crunching a stubborn bolt between his massive jaws.

"Very well. You deserve to know," Metalicana looked down at Gajeel. "There is a threat to this world," Metalicana said. "And the time has come for humans and dragons to stand alongside each other. I will teach you my magic, and when you are grown, you—along with other dragon magic users—will go back into the human world and tell them of this threat. It is the only way we can all be united against this threat."

"Sounds boring," Gajeel bit off a piece of the screw and chewed on it, leaning back to lounge on the ground. "But I do like the part where you teach me magic!"

Metalicana sighed. Perhaps he _was _too young to understand. Well, he tried. Metalicana opened his mouth to say something else, then paused. It was faint, but familiar pulses reverberated in the air.

"What's up?" Gajeel sat up, noticing Metalicana had fallen silent.

"Get up," Metaliana said, looking into the distance. "There is much that needs to be done."

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_A/N: Get ready, guys! We'll meet Levy in the next chapter. ;) _


	3. The Princess

Chapter 3: The Princess

A/N: Hey everyone! So this chapter's a little bit longer, but I hope you like it!

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Ringing crashes of sword on shield were music to Gajeel's ears as he entered the outermost courtyard of the Fiore king's castle. Fresh from Metalicana's training, the iron dragon slayer itched to join the fight. The sooner he got the king of Fiore to believe him about the threat from Acnologia, the better. Then, he'd get to kick some serious ass.

All around him, knights in their chain mail and plate dueled, roaring and grunting as swords swung and shields pulled up.

Gajeel strode toward the end of the row where a tall knight with shining armor and long red hair stood. Her hands balanced on the handle of her sword, which was pointed into the ground. She frowned as he approached.

"What can I do for you, civilian?" She asked as her eyes swept him up and down. Tall though she was, he was even taller, his height made more intimidating with a bristling mane of jet-black hair. His cloak and trousers were tanned with dust.

"I heard ya need people for your army. I'd like to sign up," Gajeel grinned, flashing his fangs. He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "And judgin' by these guys, I can tell ya right now, I'm more than qualified."

The red-haired knight raised an eyebrow. "And just who are you to insult my soldiers?"

"Name's Gajeel Redfox. I'm a free-lance."

"Well Gajeel Redfox, those are bold words coming from a ruffian still dusty from his travels. Are you even a civilian of this kingdom?"

"'Course I am. Grew up in south Fiore then left home for a few years," the practiced words flowed past his lips with ease. "Didn't find much work so I thought I'd return home and do somethin' that actually pays."

For a split second, Gajeel thought her eyes narrowed in suspicion but the look vanished as she turned away.

"Elfman, front and center!" She called. An enormous knight, perhaps even taller than Gajeel and nearly twice as wide, broke off with his sparring partner and loped over.

"Yes, sir!" The sergeant's voice rang in his helmet.

"This free-lance thinks he's fit to join our army," she said. "I'd like you to duel him." She turned to Gajeel whose veins were nearly thrumming with excitement at this prospect. "If you win, you may join us on a trial-basis. Three months of no pay, but you'll be provided room and board while you train. Do we have a deal?"

Three months of no pay was no bother to him—he'd lived on the ground for a week and that wasn't so bad. Gajeel cracked his neck. "Where d'you guys keep your armor?"

Fifteen minutes later, Gajeel emerged from the barracks. The constant clinking of the metal armor resounded against his ears like small thunderclaps while he was engulfed in the smell of iron. Behind his helmet he licked his lips, absently wondering how much they'd notice one or two missing pieces.

Gajeel strode back to the courtyard where the company awaited him. A circle had been drawn in the dirt, and the soldier called Elfman stood to the side of it.

"Your battle will be contained within the ring," the red-haired knight's voice rang out. She stood on a platform outside the circle. "Whoever is knocked out of bounds loses."

Gajeel grinned. They could have at least given him a challenge. He stepped in the circle and he and Elfman unsheathed their swords.

"Begin!" No sooner had the word rang out than Gajeel rushed toward his opponent. Elfman was quick on the draw, but even he was caught off guard with the speed of the attack. Their swords met with a clang. Gajeel pushed against Elfman, who resisted, digging his feet into the ground as he inched closer to the edge.

With a roar, Elfman swung his sword so Gajeel was forced to step backward. Elfman stepped forward and swung his sword, but Gajeel side stepped and thrust his sword toward Elfman. To avoid the point of Gajeel's sword, the immense soldier staggered back, putting his foot down at the edge of the ring.

Sweat trickled down Gajeel's back and he grinned. Nearly there.

With a victorious cry, Gajeel swept his sword toward Elfman who now side-stepped, avoiding the blade by going to the center of the ring. Gajeel's grin fell. Now, he was the one closer to the edge.

"Time to end this!" Elfman yelled, running toward Gajeel, who braced himself. As before, their swords met with a clash and Gajeel tensed against Elfman's entire weight pressing against him. He dug his feet into the ground but found himself being pushed back. Muscular though he was, there was no way he outweighed Elfman—a fact both he and physics agreed on.

"You got that right," Gajeel grunted. His feet nearly touched the rim of the circle. With a roar, he twisted and, using his sword, shoved Elfman to the side. The soldier staggered, his foot crossing the line.

"The match is over! The victory goes to the newcomer," The red-haired knight called out. She stepped down from the platform and held her hand out to Elfman, who knelt before her.

"Stand, friend. You fought well," she said. They grabbed forearms and she pulled him up. Elfman turned to Gajeel.

"A great match with a worthy opponent," he said, and took off his helmet to reveal a shock of white hair, tanned skin, and a tired but exuberant smile. "There is nothing more manlier than that!"

Gajeel removed his helmet as well, shaking his hair loose. "You got that right. That was a great fight." They shook hands.

"Then it's agreed," the red-haired knight said. "Gajeel will join us on probation." She turned to the rest of the company who had paused in their sparring to watch the match. "Treat him as you were all once treated when you first joined. Now back to your sparring!"

"Yes, Knight Erza!" the soldiers called out. Gajeel put his helmet back on, victory singing in his veins. Normally, that feeling alone would be enough to make him relax, but he'd only completed the first step.

Now to get to the king.

This proved more difficult than he would have liked. True to form, Erza was as shrewd as she was tough. There was no way she'd let a brand new soldier guard the castle let alone get near the king, and Gajeel knew better than to ask. He'd just have to bide his time until he proved to be trustworthy.

So his days as a soldier of the Fiore kingdom began. They were routine, but not necessarily the cake-walk he'd expected. Rise before the sun, run 5 miles, eat a quick and bland breakfast of cooked oats, then training until lunch. After that, it was sparring until dinner.

Gajeel mostly kept to himself during these first few days, though his fellow soldiers were friendly enough. They followed Erza's words and treated him as they were all treated, which in this case meant giving him the tasks they didn't always feel like doing. Putting away the sparring equipment, shining armor, and darning socks that were more foot than fabric were all on the list, but it was not much different than what Metalicana had him doing. Minus the socks, of course.

About a week after he joined, they all had gathered in the dining hall next to the barracks for dinner. Gajeel tore at his ration of bread, listening to the gentle murmur of conversation sometimes punctuated by a shout of laughter from the larger group around Elfman's table.

"Come on, Elfman! My arms are a little bigger than when I first got here! Feel," one of the soldiers, a scrawny man with bright red hair proffered his spindly arm to the Elfman who squeezed it. Gajeel squinted. If that kid's arms were bigger now, they must have been toothpicks when he first got here.

"Right, Jet," another soldier laughed before taking a bite out of his stew. "You're about ready to fight a dragon."

"Shut up, Droy! I'd fight a dragon if it meant keeping the princess safe! That scaly demon wouldn't know what hit it."

"She wouldn't be able to identify you after the dragon finished with you," the soldier named Droy grinned. "Besides, our princess needs an actual hero. Like me!"

"Dragons are no laughing matter," the dining hall quieted as Erza entered, her armor clinking in the silence. She cast her eyes over all of them, meeting Gajeel's eyes in that split second. "Those demons caused humankind nothing but suffering, and we should all be glad to be rid of them."

"Here, here!" One of the soldiers yelled, and the rest chimed in. Gajeel swallowed tightly, his slice of bread turning to crumbs in his grip. Metalicana told him about the war all those years ago. Told him about how dragons had decimated the human population, casting entire cities into ruin. Some were still so far beyond repair that they still stood, 100 years later, a monument to dragons' wrath.

Yet the despair seemed so…removed. By the time he came to be under Metalicana's care, he had been too young to truly grasp the horrors of those wars. As he was raised by the iron dragon, Gajeel learned more about the war, but also that not all dragons were these dangerous, vile demons that humanity made them out to be. Thoughts of Metalicana, his teachings and lessons, his deep rumbling laughter, his sarcastic comments, flashed through Gajeel's mind. He bit his tongue to keep from shouting the soldiers down. They didn't know what they were talking about.

It would take a great deal of convincing that the best course of action would be to band together against Acnologia. Gajeel just hoped that humans were tuned in to it just as much as dragons were. He couldn't feel the pulses as strongly here, but they still reached.

Time was running out.

Weeks passed, and Gajeel's role of obedient soldier was beginning to grow tedious. He gritted his teeth as he picked up the spears while the rest of the soldiers headed to the dining hall. His arms full, he made his way to the armory. He was so busy steaming about the "new soldier" totem pole that he never even sensed anyone else in the courtyard. Something small and light bumped into him and he heard someone fall onto the ground with an "Oof!"

"Oi, watch where you're goin'! I've got weapons here," Gajeel looked over his handful of spears to see a girl on the ground. Her messy hair was a striking cornflower blue which contrasted mesmerizingly with a soft yellow dress adorned with white lace around the collar and hem. Sprawled on the ground next to her was a book. It had opened partially, the pages bending against the dirty ground. She gasped and picked it up, smoothing out the pages that had become bent. She looked up at him, hazel eyes flashing. Gajeel's heart skipped a beat. Not even Erza's meanest glare was _that _threatening.

He swallowed, warmth spreading up from his neck.

"Since you're the one carrying the weapons, shouldn't _you _be the careful one?" The girl demanded, rising, book clutched to her chest.

"You're the one with her nose in a book walkin' around training grounds," Gajeel retorted, shifting to accommodate the weight of the spears which were beginning to tilt the one way. "I don't got time for this, girly."

The girl huffed. As she walked away, Gajeel's sensitive hearing picked up the word "Brute," causing a grin to unfurl.

Once the spears had been put away, Gajeel returned to the coutyard and found a folded piece of paper. He picked it up and opened it.

_There is nothing more precious and sustainable than a friendship between a human and a dragon, for they both possess a greed unknown to the other._

Gajeel stood still for many minutes, scarcely breathing. It was written in draconic. He raised the paper to his nose and took in a deep breath. Beneath the almost metallic layers of ink, he smelled the faintest scent of her. He stared off in the direction the blue-haired girl went for a minute before taking off after her.

"Oi!" Gajeel snapped. He had walked out of the outer courtyard and into the trees surrounding the castle before he found her. The girl's cornflower blue hair stood out against the dark green grass and the deep brown bark of the tree she leaned against. Sunlight fell in speckles all around her, shifting as the leaves blew in the wind.

The book was splayed out on her lap and she looked up, eyes flashing.

"Can't I get one moment of peace?!" She growled, chest heaving. "What do you want?" She gestured up to Gajeel. "Are you and the rest of the soldiers to practice here now?"

He held out the piece of paper. "I…" the whole walk there, he planned what he was going to say, demand why she had draconic writings when everyone else in the kingdom thought dragons were the devil. But how could he do that without acknowledging that he knew what it was too? Gajeel cleared his throat. "I think this is yours," he finished lamely.

The girl's eyes grew large as they fell on the paper. She took it and held it close to her chest.

"Thank you," she whispered, not meeting his eyes.

The question of why she had a piece of paper with draconic on it burned inside of Gajeel. It had clearly been handwritten. If these people hated dragons so much, why was she learning about them?

"What's that book you're readin' anyway? It's like you're glued to the thing," Gajeel broke the silence.

"It's a fairy tale." Her answer was fast, automatic as though she practiced saying it every morning in the mirror. "That's all."

Gajeel was about to remark how he liked the cover, which was covered in small scales, when a powerful pulse swept through him. He gasped, the burst of energy sending him to his knees. It sang in his blood, made the hair rise on his arms and on the back of his neck, made him want to run and keep running until he was far away from here. It was a feeling that echoed of anguish, suffering, and death. He shuddered.

A gentle touch on his shoulder made him flinch.

"A-are you okay?" The girl asked. Gajeel let out a breath, trying to steady himself. He shook as if recovering from a fever, unable to look her in the eye.

"Just fine, shrimp," he growled, standing up. He took a deep breath, using every bit of his pride and willpower not to lean against the tree.

"You don't look fine," she insisted. "Let me walk you back to—" A rustling in the nearby brush caused them both to look up.

Erza, with the soldiers Jet and Droy in tow, clattered in the garden, eyes widening as they spotted Gajeel.

"Gajeel? What are you doing with—" Jet began, but Erza cut him off.

"Princess Levy, I don't know how you got past your guards," Jet and Droy shrank a little, "but your father requests your presence back in the castle immediately," she said, her voice steely. Gajeel's insides clenched. Princess? Why the hell didn't this girl say she was the fucking princess? A little heads up would've been nice!

"Uh, right," Princess Levy hesitated a moment before getting to her feet. Her eyes met Gajeel's for a split second and she opened her mouth slightly as though to say something, but ran off to the castle.

"Jet, Droy, make sure you keep an eye on her," Erza called back to them as the trio trotted off to the castle. Her eyes fell on Gajeel, narrowing.

"Back to my barracks, soldier. There are things we need to discuss."

* * *

A/N: Alright guys, that's all until next week! I'd love to hear what you liked/didn't like so that I can improve my writing. 😊 As always, thanks for reading!


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